


she's a writer

by siyeonists



Category: Dreamcatcher (Korea Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 09:07:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16364972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siyeonists/pseuds/siyeonists
Summary: she's a writer and everything she creates is a masterpiece, or so they said.





	she's a writer

she's a writer. 

we met last year at the newly opened bookstore wherein everyone was looking forward to and it got to the point where i need to cover it for our magazine. right now, i could still remember the warmth of her breath on my nape that day because it was too crowded, even the owners were having difficulties entertaining the interested readers. i had a pen and a notebook in both hands, a camera hanging from my neck and she had a journal. she was wearing a baggy sweatshirt and had a backpack behind her. when we finally got in, she immediately strolled towards the shelf that said fantasy on top. i sat down on one of the seats near the said shelf and waited for the crowd to disappear which was a bad idea since it took hours until everyone went home. i stood up, noticing the woman earlier jotting down something on a paper before i walked towards the owner of the store. i asked the obvious things that were obviously what our readers would ask and noted them. before i leave, i glanced at the woman and she was on her way to my direction. i thought she was going to talk to me but she bowed to the owner and smiled, waving good bye before leaving the place. i quickly followed her and left. 

she's a writer.

i always see her same journal on the table where she always sat. it was by the window of the coffee shop that i always go to and i notice that she rarely leaves the place. by the time i enter the shop, she's already sipping a drink from her cup. she would look around, and write her observations on her journal. i knew because i walked to where she was sitting and asked her what she wrote after she scanned me from my head to my toes. she said she just described my outfit and smiled. that was the first day that we talked to each other. 

the second day was at the same exact location. she was wearing a beanie and glasses as she continued to use her pen on her paper. i asked her if i could sit next to her and she just nodded. i told her about my work and how i could post her works on it but she just rejected my offer. she said she'd want it to come to her not only because i asked nicely. i found out that she has written only one book and she's still working on her second one. i wished her luck and told her that the offer still stands and she could call me anytime. we exchanged numbers that day and now i regret asking for it.

she's a writer and she said she doesn't like romance that much. she said all flowery words were too cringey and boring for her. i asked her what stories she usually create and she answered murders. i was too interested that i begged to read one of her drafts. she sent me a soft copy of it and told me to keep it a secret. i smiled and told her that i would finish it in a night and she laughed. 

"ah, you're giving me too much attention, miss kim minji."

"but you deserve it, miss kim yoohyeon."

"you don't know that, princess."

she's a writer and she told me i could be a princess to her stories but too bad because the cliché fairytales don't attract her way of art. she said the only ones she loved were the grim versions and i just laughed at how different she is from everyone else i've met. she said i look very charming and even words aren't enough to describe my 'beauty'. she said she was flirting with me and pouted when i couldn't take the hint so i flirted back and asked her out. 

damn, she's really a writer. she wrote a poem for me on a paper and put it on the chair where i'm supposed to sit. i blushed and hid my face, too flustered to let the other customers in the restaurant to even glance at me. 

"i could only write news and features..."

"you deserve hundred of poems written for you."

she's a writer and every words that came out from her mouth were all beautiful and they were only for me. as the time passes by, the writer wrote letters with her tongue on my body and everything felt surreal. she whispered pretty words, she called me lovely names and i asked her why doesn't she write romance when she could be this romantic. 

"i don't want the story to end."

"you write murders, hoping those to end."

"pretty much, yeah."

"wonderful."

i complimented her as my breath started hitching. her nose touching my neck as she thumbed words on my skin which i didn't get due to the pleasure i'm receiving. 

the next day, she asked if i finished reading her draft and i lied. i haven't started because all i could focus on was meeting her everyday and think about her every night. i lied and she saw through me. she got all moody and didn't talk to me for a day. i let her be. the day she ignored me was the day i began reading her draft. it was bloody. the kind of bloody that you wished you have never started reading but the story was too intriguing and you have to finish it. but it was only a draft. the full story wasn't written yet. 

the next day, i asked her about the plot and she told me that she can't tell me it. i nodded, fully understanding that dating a writer wouldn't guarantee me with free books that aren't done yet. i hummed next to her as she continued on spinning her pen. i asked her about the free promo on our magazine and she still rejected it. 

"i want to earn it on my own, love."

she said and i sighed. i agreed and waited for her to finish whatever she's jotting down on her journal. she never let me take a peak and told me that it'll only give me spoilers. another night was spent with her sleeping next to me. 

the days passed and she was always in my place. we managed to work side by side, her slowly finalizing her book and me, writing for the magazine. i don't really need to be at the company in order to publish a feature. i only need to send it through e-mail. because of that, i could always stare at my girlfriend who yawns every 7 am and sighs everytime she felt tired. 

"how's the book?"

"still planning the climax."

"i'm very excited to read it."

she grabbed my arm and wrapped hers around my body. she complimented the perfume i'm using and how great i smell. the day ended with her keeping the journal inside her bag and cuddling with me. 

she's a writer.  
i am also a writer.   
or so, i was. 

the next day started and she was nowhere to be seen. i saw her journal on top of the coffeetable and i knew by then that she probably went outside to buy something. the curiousity was killing me so i sat next to the table and palmed the journal.   
the first few pages were all doodles. she's a writer, not a graphic artist and i smiled as i scan all the stickmen on the pages. as i continued to flip the pages, the more words are written on it. 

"for kim minji..."

three words were written on one of the pages and the next page says;

"thank you for being my inspiration in finishing this book." 

she even signed the same page. i continued smiling as i re-read the phrase. i started reading the next pages and realized it was the same from the draft i read a few days ago. she didn't change anything and i hurried over the ending of the draft, the one i'm mostly excited about was the continuation of what i left reading. that was when i wanted to stop. 

i glanced at the words. i tried to think of any other possible reasons why everything written on the journal was what exactly happened when we first talked at the coffee shop. i shook my head, realizing that i was the inspiration for the book. i tried to smile but it never surfaced on my face as i read the next few pages. 

she's a writer and she's been writing about me. 

from the coffee shop, to how i smell during sex, how i lied about reading the draft, how i asked about the book, and how she spent nights next to me. everything was written on this journal and i'm too afraid to read more. i closed it, and dashed towards my bed. the door swung open and revealed yoohyeon who was carrying something that i wished she didn't have with her. 

"the climax is here, love, i know you're curious about the story."  
"yoohyeon..."  
"did you like the draft? i bet you did, judging that you read until the end."

she had a knife with her. it was sharp, that when she tapped it, she started bleeding. i wanted to run away, i wanted to scream but something was forbidding me. she pushed me down on the mattress and straddle my lap, still holding the weapon with her right hand. 

"minji, thank you for being an inspiration." 

she positioned the knife on my forehead. it didn't took long when she lifted it and striked my neck. i could explain but all i could see now was the red color of my own blood as it dropped on my face.   
she's a writer and i'm the character in her book. they were right when they said that the most powerful person was the author. 

she's a writer, and with her knife, she wrote the ending notes on my skin, the ink was blood red and the paper was dying.

**Author's Note:**

> i was really bored so i decided to write this. thank you so much for reading ~


End file.
